throbbing light machine

I'm just setting sail into Star Trek Discovery -- the reveal about Michelle Yeoh's role in the later part of the first season brought back all the interest I'd originally had in the show with a vengeance! 1 episode in, Michael Burnham/Phillippa Georgiou does appear to be a lovely potential femslash ship, so: I am engaged. Also was interested in the setup of Burnham v. Klingons, and her distinction between prejudice and preparation based on knowledge of culture; potentially a good intervention into the weird identity swing of Klingons between TOS's powerful cod-Russian adversaries and TNG's misunderstood cod-colonialized or Af-Am Klingons?

In the last few weeks, though, I've spent most of my headtime in Westmark. I bought the series for D. for his birthday last September; Prydain was a shared fandom of ours in grade school, and I didn't think he'd made it that far into the odder Alexanders; it felt like a proper place to begin, as an adult reader. I don't know that I realized how much we would both end up relying on the books for a language to talk about politics, power, resistance, grey areas, in this the Age of Trump. We've been reading them out loud; we're nearly done with The Beggar Queen now, after a weekend of furious page-turning. It's been badly needed catharsis; just enough escapism to help, but connected to reality in a way that I'm currently finding necessary, and all of it in an authorial voice that we've both had tagged as "safe" since childhood.

Been jamming on Laura Mvula's music the last month.